You Seem Very Beautiful
by quibbler149
Summary: Set after 'A Thin Line'. Blair left the UES for Lima, reinventing herself as Rachel Berry and starting over. Everything is perfect until the Non-Judging Breakfast Club show up in her new life to uproot the world she made for herself.
1. Introduction

_Disclaimer: Usually this is where I offer something witty about how I own nothing, but I'm too lazy to come up with anything good. You all know what I own and don't own, anyway._

**AN: This story is bound to contain multiple flaws (like the fact that both Harold and Roman are white and that Lea Michelle looks entirely different from Leighton Meester), but I like this plot. Can I hope that you'll forgive the rough patches and overlook them? The story is set after 'A Thin Line'. My take is that Blair left for Ohio instead of France and Serena didn't get to stop her. In Glee time, everything's basically the same (ish). Try to enjoy it!**

Introduction:

Blair glanced at the reflection the window tingled when the morning sunlight hit it.

She was happy. Or really, the better word would be content. Yes, that was it! She was content. Nothing alarmingly exciting occurred in Lima, nothing to split her world into pieces or peel away layers of protection that she had woven painstakingly around herself. Here she reinvented herself.

Granted, it was strange to not experience the popularity or respect or admiration as Queen B of the Upper East Side, but it was wonderful to feel the shoes of another personality.

"Rachel! Honey! Time for school!" The smell of Harold's pancakes wafted through a crack in the door.

Rachel Berry. It was the first name she had thought about selecting for herself when she fled from all that was familiar. It had taken her some considerable time to get used to the sound and the sense, but it had been a year already. She felt more Rachel Berry than Blair Waldorf at times.

Her mother had begged and pleaded when she announced her decision to leave. Eleanor Waldorf never begged or pleaded, but she did so on bended knee at the thought of her naïve young daughter leaving for a strange new world. Blair was too heartbroken at her life to consider many consequences. She only thought about rushing forwards into obscurity.

Harold and Roman had moved from their large vineyard in France to a quiet town in Ohio. They hadn't sold the vineyard, but decided to understand the peaceful life for some years before heading back to the territory of parties and wealth.

Blair had taken this opportunity to discover what was lost. She just needed to leave.

It had taken a lot of persuading on her mother's behalf. But her endless tears and forlorn silence and empty social calendar had won Eleanor over. Harold and Roman were more than happy to have her all to themselves. They welcomed her with ready arms. Blair told no one she was leaving. She told not Nate, not Chuck, not even Serena. Well, Nate and Chuck wouldn't care, but Serena would try to hold her back.

Blair was broken. She left to fix herself. She knew that the glue she needed wouldn't be lying casually on any old pavement. It would take an immeasurable amount of time and healing to be wonderful and fresh and new. She couldn't risk any part of the UES dragging her back down through slippered cracks and splintering her being once more. Blair wasn't sure she could survive anymore pain.

It was too easy to introduce herself as Rachel Berry. She was the beloved daughter of her gay fathers and had a driving ambition. Ambition was something Blair knew she would never be able to bury. Instead, she just changed where her ambition was headed.

But enough of the reminisces. Blair shook out her brown hair. She had it straightened everyday, as to feel distanced from the curls she had once donned. When she left the Upper East Side, she took no item of clothing with her. She couldn't be someone new if she still looked the same way. She started fresh. Everything had changed, and although there were no mind numbing events, Blair (or Rachel, now) was content.

The smart clicking of her platform shoes marked her entrance into the kitchen.

"Morning, Sweetheart." Harold had taken some effort to stop his endearment of 'Blair Bear'. She was Rachel now and it was strange. Neither he or Eleanor or Roman understood what she was doing. He wondered briefly and much too often if she understood herself. All he saw was that she was as happy as she could be after that horrible incident. That was all he needed.

Roman folded his newspaper in half neatly and gave Blair a sunny smile. "Rachel, have some breakfast and then get going. You don't want to be late."

Blair would had rolled her eyes, shrugged him off, adjusted her headband and refused breakfast in favor of coffee. But Rachel trilled out a happy good morning and sat down to dig into a healthy sized plate of eggs and pancakes.

A tinkling tune rang from her phone. It was a modest and plain cell phone. Not long after she left, she had barely glanced at the million messages Serena sent her, laughed bitterly and loudly, then proceeded to smash her orange EnV against the buttered concrete of the school wall.

It had felt awesome.

The time had come for her to dump her trolley bag into the back of her car and drive to school. Rachel was a girl of independence, Blair decided. She was going to do everything by herself. She didn't need help or support or other people. Rachel would be strong. And judging from the amount of slushies and ugly comments thrown in her face, Blair was right.

Although the rest of the school had not found her extremely likeable, Blair was still content because she knew this façade was temporary and she had Glee and she had the comfort of thought that nobody would mess with Blair Waldorf. But then she would remember that people appreciated Blair Waldorf even less and being Rachel with the dripping slushies was better than Blair with the yoghurt.

In the end, her thoughts would confuse her and Blair would stop thinking altogether. She would just drive.

-

"Mr. Bass, we have managed to locate Miss Waldorf."

Chuck flicked his eyes up lazily from the tumbler of Scotch he was swirling around. "Really? I must say, this has taken a lot longer than I expected."

"Sir, we apologize. It was not easy finding her."

Chuck laughed. Blair had tried to run. But he had still found her.

"Nate!" His throaty voice echoed across the suite and reached his best friend. They had managed to reconcile after Blair's departure, acknowledging their equal love for the girl and the empty feeling her absence left in their minds. Serena had been desperately upset. Chuck hated seeing girls upset. It made him squirm and want to leave because he wasn't very good at taking care of people.

"What is it, Chuck?" Nate emerged from the bathroom, cigarette alight in the corner of his mouth.

"I think, Nathaniel, that we call Serena and pay Blair a visit."

"You found her?"

"Apparently she's in… Limi? Limo? Well, a town in Ohio, anyway."

"When do we leave?"

"As soon as possible."

**AN: It was short, but this is the introduction. I know it sucks and am half heartedly considering not to continue this. Also, I am faced with the dilemma of ending Blair/Rachel up with Puck or Chuck? Hmm… **


	2. Chapter One: The Confrontation

_Disclaimer: Usually this is where I offer something witty about how I own nothing, but I'm too lazy to come up with anything good. You all know what I own and don't own, anyway._

**AN: So, I've been MIA lately. In my defense, I've had a crapload of exams. But it's break now so I've got time to write Chapter One! Thank you all for the reviews.**

Chapter One:

How to be invisible…

Step One: Dress in a variety of argyle and plaid

Step Two: Sit at the corner of the room

Step Three: Join Glee club under pretense of reaching for fake goal

Step Four: Change your name from Blair Waldorf to Rachel Berry

Blair felt her hair. It was lighter without the usual burden of a hairband. She wouldn't go as far as to say she missed it, but it was certainly strange without the presence. She glanced down at her outfit and inwardly winced. The Blair dwelling inside her was screaming at how disgusting she looked. Rachel shrugged and thought she looked perfectly fine. She decided to ignore the hysterical inner Blair.

Days were passing in blurs, blending together in prefect symmetry. She could live like this, she really could. There was a comfort, a familiarity in every knowing step. It was a blessing to be invisible, somewhere where no one recognized her and didn't feel the need to plaster her with snide remarks and smothered red lipstick. It was somewhere where there was no Serena and no Nate and no Chuck.

Before long, the bell had rang and students were wafting along the corridors: some heading for home and others for their various club activities. Blair strategically maneuvered so she wouldn't be crushed under the tide of people.

When she stepped in, she found that she was actually late for once. Everybody gave her a suspicious glance when she slinked through the door and dove into a spare seat. "Well, girls and boys, Regionals are coming up and we need a music selection…" His nervous trail off reminded Blair of what Rachel was supposed to do. She shot a hand into the air and stood up, short skirt swishing behind her. "Mr. Shuester, I believe it would be incredibly beneficial to Glee if we were to sing a selection from Les Miserables. The sound is so utterly poignant and raw. It-"

"Thank you, Rachel. I was actually about to say that we should put it to a vote. That way, everyone can feel included." He gave her a meaningful glance, head motioning for her to sit back down. She did so gratefully, but made sure to appear ruffled and rejected. Who wanted to sing from Les Miserables anyway? She had joined Glee thinking there wouldn't be many people in it. She was right, but somehow, some footballers and cheerleaders had joined, boosting the club's popularity. Her plan to put people off with the horrible display of "Push It" seemed to go well. So why were people still joining?

Blair gave a resigned sigh and slouched back in her seat, arms folded. For Rachel, this was a sigh of contempt and the ridiculousness of it all. For Blair, it was desperation of normality in the form of a physical action.

(o) - O - (o)

"Chuck! Chuck!"

The faint tap-tap of high heels stomped their way down the stairs. Serena was lugging a red suitcase, tossing brilliant gold tresses over her shoulder as she went. Nate and Chuck were reclining on the sofas in the living room, a plume of smoke enveloping their faces.

"Hey! You two! Are you still smoking? Come on, you haven't done that in a year!" She reached over and yanked away Chuck's cigarette, tossing it into the ashtray. "It's a filthy habit and you haven't touched them since…" She stopped, realizing what she had been about to say. The mood grew awkward and Nate hesitantly stubbed out his own cigarette on the ashtray.

"We're all packed. Serena. Let's go."

She nodded, relieved at the change of subject and dusted off her red pea-coat.

(o) - O - (o)

Blair glanced wistfully at her reflection in the mirror she had hung up on her locker door. Even to her, she could see something that definitely wasn't there before. "Rachel! Hey, Rachel!" She turned to see a grinning Finn, monstrous figure clouding over the space in the hallways. She commanded the muscles in her mouth to pull up into a smile. "Finn! What's up?"

"Aw, nothing. I was just wondering if you weren't busy tonight…"

"Actually, I am." At the sight of his crestfallen face, she hurriedly rushed on. "But maybe another time, yeah? I'm really sorry."

Quickly swinging the locker door shut, she fled from the boy. That was, before running into another.

"Whoa there!" It was Puck. He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her up. "You don't have to _act_ so eager in front of everybody too." He leaned forwards, breath tickling Blair's ear. "We should save your eagerness for private…" Blair elbowed him away and stomped on his foot. The result was much more painful when she wore high heels and stilettos, but her many years of foot-stomping experience had not diminished her talent to inflict pain. Puck gave a yell and crumbled down to cradle his injured foot.

"What was that for?"

Blair did not deign him an answer, but smiled infuriatingly and walked on.

"Bitch!" he called after her. She hid her wince at that familiar term.

Roman swooped around in his car, sunlight reflecting off the shiny metal surface of the vehicle. Blair bounded in, slinging her books into the back seat. "Bonjour, Roman! Did you wash the car?" He gave a delighted smile. "Oui, Blair."

They both faltered. Blair blinked before deciding to ignore the slip of his tongue. "Anyway, is Daddy going to be home from work soon tonight?" She didn't understand why her father had insisted on taking a job at the local law firm. His qualifications were more than adequate (of course), but they had more than enough money to last them a year without working. He had chided her, telling her about "getting involved" and "experiencing new things".

Well, she couldn't very well argue with that, could she?

The car ride home was quiet. It was at rare moments like this where Blair allowed herself to wallow in misery and self-pity. No sooner had Roman parked the car and Blair trudged to her room when the doorbell rang. She decided Roman would get that and continued on with her activities. However, footsteps to her door signaled Roman's arrival. "Blair, it's for you…"

His tone was wary and careful. Blair glanced at him in worry before gingerly sliding back downstairs. She came to the front door and stopped.

It was the last three people she wanted to ever see.

_Ever_.

"Hello, Blair. Can we come in?" Nate was the first to break the ice. His voice was light and sweet and so _nostalgic_. Blair thought about slamming the door in their faces, but realized that was below even Rachel's means of education. She reluctantly stepped aside and ushered them in. They entered silently in a single file.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. The question had hung in the air for too long and she voiced it aloud. "I could ask the same about you" retorted Chuck. She almost melted at the deepness and richness of his words. Memories threatened to burst from her chest. She couldn't breathe.

Serena reached over to hug her. "We've missed you so, B. Everybody's wondering where you are! I mean, Constance is complete anarchy without you! Penelope's taken over the Queen Bee position, and we all hate her. Just come back, B. Please."

Her jumble of words made their way to Blair's ear. She could hear them and comprehend them, but still found it very vexing to be caught in the headlights like this. She much preferred confronting people than being confronted. And now Serena, Nate and Chuck were staring at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something… anything.

"I think you all should go" she uttered at last. Her throat was closing up and she recognized the signs of a breakdown within her. She couldn't risk tearing up in front of them.

Serena closed her eyes. "All right, B. But we're not going anywhere. We're staying until you see sense. Don't keep running, B. Running from yourself and your past never works. Trust me, I tried it. It's just pain for everybody involved, yourself included." Then, she motioned for the two boys to follow her. They trooped back out again.

The door gave a small _click_ as Nate gently closed it.

And that was when Blair finally sunk to the carpet. Dust swirled around her like fairy dust.

_How did they find me?_

**AN: Still a short chapter… but a chapter all the same. I have decided to continue this story. The next chapter involved more Glee and maybe first interactions between the NJB-C and Gleeks. Much love!**


	3. Chapter Two: I'm Really Leaving

_Disclaimer: Usually this is where I offer something witty about how I own nothing, but I'm too lazy to come up with anything good. You all know what I own and don't own, anyway._

**AN: So, this story has great potential, but there are so many complications with the plot that I'm scared to screw it up. Here's another chapter and the hope that things turn out reasonably logically.**

Chapter Two:

Finn was confused. Or, as he liked to put it, confuzzled. Ever since he joined Glee club, Rachel had been putting the moves on him. For one thing, she totally asked him how his day was. For another, she smiled really prettily when he asked her to show him the dance routine again. That must mean something, right?

Maybe he was acting like a chick and overthinking stuff, but Quinn's baby drama was dealing some serious blows on his popularity and he needed a girlfriend to reinforce that reputation. Rachel was pretty enough and maybe desperate enough to agree to a quick hookup to push him back up. The snag was, she was blowing him off. That he didn't get. What kind of girl sends so many signals and then backs out? The first few times he thought she was just playing hard to get, but it had been some time now.

Anyway, there were plenty of other fish in the sea. And as far as Finn was concerned, Santana was far hotter and more willing.

(o) - O - (o)

It had been a week now. One whole, crazy week. Blair had lived a full week glancing constantly over her shoulder and jumping a mile whenever there was a nearby sound. It had been a terrible week and it showed - not only in her haggard face but in Glee club too. Mr. Shuester was more than surprised when she refused all major roles and didn't participate in any of his tacky competitions. The other members chalked it up to her diva attitude and ignored her (with the exception of Santana who called her a bitch again, not that she hadn't heard that word enough times in her life). It seemed that wherever she went, whatever she did, people were bound to dislike her. That she didn't understand. She had experienced being at the top of the food chain - people always watched you, always plotted for the perfect way to take you down, she had also experienced being at the bottom - you got slushied everyday and were thrown looks of disgust and unimportance. Neither made her feel extremely happy. It seemed that Blair was built to be on extremes: either an extreme loser or an extreme Queen.

It was a Tuesday. A fateful, life-changing Tuesday. That morning, she had an uneasy feeling in her stomach (different to the feeling she felt that week). It probably stemmed from the glances her father were trading with Roman. She decided to ignore those feelings so she could get through the day and reach the sanctuary of her bedroom again. At school, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That was, until fifth period.

She was in Calculus, a subject she did not enjoy, but did not hate. A small, weedy looking boy had shuffled into the room with a lisp and a slip of paper that called her to the Principal's office. The teacher barely looked up before ushering her away. As such proceedings were hardly a daily occurrence; the knot in her stomach had only tightened.

Principal Figgins was not alone in his office. There was a seated woman facing away from Blair, manicured curls carefully peeping beneath a felt hat. Then the woman turned and Blair gasped. "Mo-Mother. What…"

"Blair," said Eleanor, standing and striding towards her. "You should come home. I have already made the necessary withdrawals from this school. Everything is prepared. We can leave at once."

"But Mother, I-"

"Your principal is a understanding man. He makes no objections towards your departure."

Blair glanced wildly around the room. Principal Figgins was clutching a stack of papers, presumably now embellished with her mother's signature. "Mother, I don't want to come home. I- I like it here. The people, they're nice to me. I don't want to go."

"You think I'm an idiot, Blair? I know just how 'nice' they all are. And what on earth are you wearing? No daughter of mine shall ever be seen in argyle sweaters."

With that, Eleanor seized her hand and yanked her into the empty corridor, heels clicking rhythmically along the tiled floor. Blair struggled. "No! No, I can't go back! Please, you don't understand! It's even worse back there."

"Nonsense! If your friends hadn't come to me I might have believed it, but they're all very ready to welcome you back. You'll be happier back home, Blair, with me. You'll be happier in New York with Constance and a decent wardrobe. Now hurry, your father has already packed your luggage for you. It's waiting for you."

Blair closed her eyes. She steadied herself on a nearby wall and tried to swallow. Was this really it? Was it all over? The new start she had planned, was it finished? She had thought it might all end so well, that she might be accepted and loved and try a new life the way she tried on new shoes. It was hard here, but nothing could be harder than surviving on the Upper East Side. They were ruthless. They made her ruthless. They could make her the hardest and coldest version of herself.

"All right, Mother. Let's go."

(o) - O - (o)

"Has anyone seen Rachel today?" Mr. Shuester was having an exasperating day. First, his Spanish class was interrupted by the late arrival of a troublemaker who thought it fun to pelt surrounding girls with chewed gum, then his car broke down during lunch, so not only did he have to fix that he also went hungry, and now Rachel was missing. Rachel never missed Glee. It was agreed unanimously that she loved it with all her being (maybe a bit too much). Maybe her head wasn't in it this past week, but it was written off as excessive studying or maybe a bad case of PMS.

"Okay, well, Rachel might be running a bit late. So, anyway, let's go over new song selections for Sectionals. We didn't even place at Regionals, which sucks, but that just means we'll up the ante, right?"

Mercedes raised her hand. "Hey, Mr. Shue, if Rachel's not here, does that mean I'll get the solo?"

"Uh… well, which song were you thinking of, Mercedes?"

"I was thinking 'The Power of Love' by Celine Dion. It's perfect for my vocals."

Mr. Shuester rubbed his forehead. "That sounds good, Mercedes. But let's wait until Rachel gets here, okay? If we just go ahead with decisions, she might get a bit cranky?"

"A bit?" scoffed Santana. "That girl has serious issues. She's running this club, Mr. Shue! Are you gonna let her take over?"

Well, that led to a tirade of complaints from the other members concerning Rachel until a very smug looking Sue Sylvester swung into the room. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Curls and his little club."

"What is it now, Sue?" Mr. Shuester could steadily feel his limit approaching.

"I just saw your starlet walk out of this school after fifth."

"What, did Rachel have a headache or something?"

"No, due to my extensive blackmailing of Figgins, it appears that she has left the school. Permanently."

"What?"

The Glee club were silent now, eyes big with surprise and maybe a little fear. "Jesus Christ," muttered Puck, sinking his shaved head into the palms of his hands. Maybe this was what it felt like when the shit hits the fan.

"Sue, are you sure?" asked Will. Her smug look and raised eyebrows proved the affirmative. "I guess now your club is doomed and I'll have somebody else's life to ruin. All's well with the world."

And when she slammed the door shut, Sue Sylvester left behind a group of flapping youngsters and a very frozen Mr. Shuester.

(o) - O - (o)

Manhattan was always changing. There was always a new fashion trend or a new celebrity, or maybe a few more skyscrapers. Whatever it was, Blair felt like she was coming home. Her father was very sad to see her go. But he and Roman understood that Lima was too small to contain Blair Waldorf - probably better than she did herself.

And while she was looking forward to the bagels and colored tights, she was certainly not looking forward to the gossip or the Non-Judging Breakfast Club. Nate had shunned her, Chuck had insulted her, and Serena was doing what she always did best: outshining Blair.

Maybe they had acted differently when she was in Lima, but in their natural habitat there was no telling how lethal they were feeling. As a result, Blair's plan was to jump off the taxi and scurry up to her apartment as fast as her ugly oxfords could take her. There wasn't much to pack. Harold couldn't really understand the concept of shopping constantly, and had decided Blair would need everything in her wardrobe. She told him to incinerate it all as well as her cell phone.

If was she coming back to the Upper East Side, she was going to do it right.

(o) - O - (o)

**AN: A little unexpected, maybe? And some of you might be disappointed that she returned home, but I assure you, Lima is far from over for the N-JBC (Blair included). There's still plenty of Puck I haven't shown.**

**Also, a reader **_**MystriousCraze**_** sent me an email asking to continue the story for me. It was a coincidence that I was just in the middle of the second chapter when I received it. You have turned your PM system off, so I can't reply. I thought about it, but I really do love this story and I have been dreaming about making it work for a long time. I have no intention of abandoning it and it would sadden me to not have it go in the direction I want. So I'm sorry, **_**MystriousCraze**_**, but I think I'm keeping this puppy.**

**Other readers, enjoy my update! I really have been busy, but I appreciate the support. And please be patient. Although I won't be updating often, just know I won't let go of this story unless I'm good and ready.**


	4. Chapter Three: Adjust to a New Reality

_Disclaimer: Usually this is where I offer something witty about how I own nothing, but I'm too lazy to come up with anything good. You all know what I own and don't own, anyway._

**AN: Another update! But another one probably won't come quite as soon. Nevertheless, we never know?**

Chapter Three:

It was utterly overwhelming. Blair stood, fixated, in the midst of her room staring at the monstrosity that was her wardrobe. Currently, the double doors were flung wide open, spilling out an array of satins and color. She really had been away too long.

"Blair! Blair! Hurry up, you'll be late for school." Eleanor called up the stairs impatiently. Blair quickly roused herself and seized a handful of cloth. "I'll be right down, Mother."

It was so easy to dress herself down. When she first arrived in Lima she was determined to present herself as plainly as possible. Unfortunately, she might have gone a bit far (animal sweaters had sounded reasonably normal when she first approached the idea). In any case, this strange world of fashion was a little unfamiliar for her. She swallowed some panic and tried to remember what color was in fashion now. It was lucky she wore a uniform. It was unlucky that as Queen B she was expected to turn up with a coat in the latest cut and color.

"Blair! What are you doing? You cannot skip breakfast!"

"I said I'm coming, Mother!"

Would it be bad if she turned up in flats? It had been a while since her heels and they had been higher than expected. Also, none of her headbands looked appealing today so she decided to forgo one. At least she remembered how to apply makeup. But she found no heart to go beyond a moisturizer and lip balm. All those expensive pots were threatening.

Deciding to play it safe, Blair finally selected a beautiful grey coat. Surely she couldn't go wrong with a neutral? When she looked in her full length mirror she saw a shy and innocent girl. The sight almost made Blair cry.

Her mother stared at her with incredulity when she stated she was taking the bus today. "But, Blair. You hate public transport!"

"Well, it has its merits. And I got used to it in Lima. That tiny town doesn't even have a subway, you know."

And so it was that Blair found herself perched on a worn seat on the bus to Constance, blinking at scenery that had once been so recognizable. The bus stopped some ways before actually reaching the school, so Blair walked the rest of the way. She was thankful of her choice of footwear. Maybe her flats weren't the most glitzy, but they were reasonably comfortable.

When she entered the school grounds, she almost reeled back. The students were so alive and animated, murmuring secrets in huddled groups, comparing designer bags and new highlights. It was so different from McKinley. Constance was like a stage, always on "action".

"B! You're here! I can't believe it!" Serena rushed to embrace Blair. Blair patted her friend a little awkwardly, but smiled at the comforting camaraderie. Certainly this was something she missed at McKinley: someone to care about her. It was this embrace that attracted the attention of the nearby students. Silence blanketed the courtyard. The attention burnt Blair like a blue flame. She fought the instinct to duck down and hide away. There was more of Rachel in her now than she thought.

Instead, she lifted her chin just a little higher and swept a gaze around the students. Then she turned to enter the building. It probably would have been grander with a _click click_ of heels, but the thudding of her flats felt just as satisfying.

(o) - O - (o)

"We suck," said Puck.

Mr. Shuester sighed. "No, we don't. We'll just have to reshuffle the arrangement and get a new member."

Kurt scoffed. "No offense, Mr. Shue, but Glee club hasn't gotten anymore popular. And as much as I hate to admit it, we kind of need Rachel's voice."

The teacher sank onto a chair. "Okay, that's it. Practice today is cancelled. I need to sort things out." The club hesitated for a moment before chairs scraped back and the students left the room. Puck stopped by Mr. Shuester. "Say what you like, Mr. Shue, but without Rachel we still suck."

(o) - O - (o)

When she was in Lima, one thing that hadn't changed was Blair's perfect grades. When she was back, that still hadn't changed. Blair found refuge in class. She chose a seat squarely in the middle of the classroom and submitted herself to an afternoon of lectures and study. But lunch was inevitable and she felt her heart slump when the bell rang. Serena found her easily. She was sitting on a stone bench in front of the plaque.

"Blair, why aren't you at the Met?"

"I'm not ready for this, Serena."

Serena frowned. "What do you mean? You're back, right? This is your natural habitat. You've been away for a while and I understand that you're out of the loop but-"

"You don't understand," interrupted Blair, "I am not ready for this. When I left the city I took Blair and I stowed her at the bottom of my bed. Somewhere along the way, she got a little lost. Sure, I'm back, but I'm not Blair yet. I thought if I came back, things would just normalize, but it's hard. And I can't let the minions see me like this. I won't face them unless I am Blair Waldorf, bitch extraordinaire."

Serena rubbed her friend's shoulder. "B, you can't just avoid them. Penelope is getting restless. She's still intimidated by your return, but for how much longer? If you stay away, it'll be seen as weakness and she'll strike."

Blair was quiet. Then she rubbed her neck and stood up. "Where are you going?" asked Serena. Blair quirked an eyebrow. "Getting my bitch back."

To be or not to be? Every step beat out that question. To be or not to be? Blair approached the Met, disdain masking her face. It was hard at first too, being Rachel. Surely the adjustment back could be made. The thing was, Blair was finding it difficult to care so much. All the things that used to push her buttons didn't bother her anymore. But strangely enough, the things that bothered Rachel didn't irk her either. Maybe she was a third person now. Maybe she had become the in-between of the two personalities.

But enough pondering, Blair had reached the Met with Serena in tow. "Penelope." The one word and a sharp glare was sufficient in removing Penelope from the top step. Blair gracefully picked her way up and settled down. After a moment's pause, the minions clustered around her eager to gain favor again. Blair smiled a small smile. And to everybody else, it might seem perfectly natural, but to Blair, it was not.

When school ended, Blair attempted to gather up her things with haste in order to avoid Serena and any further confrontations. But no such luck. "B! Wait up! Come on, let's go for some frozen yoghurt."

Blair didn't want frozen yoghurt. She didn't want the coy glances and the calculating thoughts. She didn't want the plotting, the scheming. She was tired. But she let herself walk with Serena for frozen yoghurt and she let herself be dragged into watching a Hepburn movie even though it was a school night.

And at the end of the day, when she settled back into her room, she felt a much less daunted than she had been at the start of it. If she fell back into traditions, into Upper East Side rituals, this feeling of discomfort might go away.

(o) - O - (o)

It was with trepidation and some nervousness that Puck knocked on the door. Unlike his, this door was very clean and carefully varnished. But before he had time to investigate what wood was used, it had swung open to reveal Harold. "Mr. Berry! Is Rachel home?"

Harold smiled. "Hello Puck, call me Harold, please. Won't you come in?"

Puck had been inside the Berry residence before. Unfortunately, the end of his relationship with Rachel had stopped those visits (and even more unfortunately, the making out). So he knew how nice all the shit was in the house. But it was still a good view every time he walked in.

"Would you like something to drink, Puck?"

He glanced back at Harold. "Uh, no thanks. I'm looking for Rachel?"

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Harold suddenly looked uneasy. "Well, Rachel's not home at the moment."

"It's okay, I can wait."

"She's actually not in Lima."

"What? She left town already? Well, where'd she go?"

"She… left to visit relatives."

"In the middle of school? By dropping out of McKinley? I don't think so, Rachel would never do that."

Harold sighed and sat down on the couch. "She's gone to her mother, Puck. She's not coming back."

Puck frowned. What the fuck was the man talking about? "Her mom? But she doesn't even know who her mom is."

"Well, she found out. And now she's gone to live with her mom."

"I don't buy that." It was total bullshit.

"Believe what you like, Rachel's still not coming back."

It was pointless, Harold was keeping his mouth fucking shut. So Puck thanked him and left. If he was going to fucking find out anything he'd have to do it himself. Only problem was he had no fucking idea where to start.

In Glee, things were not looking up. It became clear that without Rachel's valuable contributions there was a lot more squabbling than ever before. Mercedes and Kurt now had each other to fight for the solo. As a result, their friendship had gone down the drain. Now Santana wanted a duet with Brittany, but then Brittany didn't want the song Santana chose and they couldn't stop arguing about the genre. Mr. Shuester was becoming increasingly withdrawn and shrank fearfully into a corner most of the time, letting the kids fight it out. It looked like all hope was lost.

That was, until the day when Mr. Shuester came back clutching a flier and beaming like someone told him there was a cure for cancer.

"Guys, guess what."

There was a silence. Whatever Mr. Shuester was expecting, it was falling flat.

"Okay, never mind. So, I spoke to Figgins. Glee club is losing its morale. We can't have that. So we're going to boost it up with a little field trip. The school has enough funding to transport us there, but you'll have to shell out for the tickets. But if you can, in two weeks time, we will all be going to see the musical _A Chorus Line_."

The club members had started whispering amongst themselves.

"Which is in New York."

And at that, the room exploded with gasps of disbelief, happiness, or in the case of Kurt, a sudden fit of shrieking and covering his mouth with one hand.

_Well_, thought Puck, _looks like finding Rachel might have to wait until after New York._

(o) - O - (o)

**AN: Did anyone expect that? Be honest. The story isn't going exactly to plan (it keeps writing itself) and it's kind of writing itself. But that's okay, because I like how it's turning out so far.**


	5. Chapter Four: Preparations

_Disclaimer: Usually this is where I offer something witty about how I own nothing, but I'm too lazy to come up with anything good. You all know what I own and don't own, anyway._

**AN: Okay guys. I live in Christchurch, New Zealand. And the reason I'm telling you is because on the 22****nd**** of September, we were hit by our second large earthquake in just 6 months. 113 people and more are confirmed dead, hundreds are still missing, 50% of households don't have electricity and 80% don't have running water. My family is very lucky, but there are so many who are not. This chapter is dedicated to everybody in Christchurch as we live through this dark time. We have to rebuild our entire city and our lives. So everybody else out there, please help us by raising awareness, donating some money or just telling someone else about it. It's times like these that make us realize how much we took for granted. Thank you.**

Chapter Four:

Blair thought she was adjusting quite well. True, more than one person had eyed her strangely when she offered to help a freshman find her class and when she had helped a teacher scoop up some fallen papers, but they hadn't thought more of it when she swept them an icy glare (one of her specialties, she recalled). Serena was a godsend. She walked her through every fashion disaster (or rather, potential fashion disaster) and helped her through every scheming crisis. And if anyone had noticed that Blair was not the bitch she once was, they turned a blind eye.

But although she had spent much time with Serena, Blair had not been meeting much with Chuck or Nate. Sure, they had gone to Lima to drag her back home, but that seemed to be the end of it. Blair supposed it might have something to do with the fact that she stepped into her classroom just as the bell rang and left first at the end of the day. And on weekends, well, she was either locked behind her doors with Audrey Hepburn and old musicals or shopping with Serena.

In spite of all this effort, it was inevitable that she face the two boys some day. And sadly, the day seemed to be arriving sooner than later. It really was all her fault. She had seen the advertisement for _A Chorus Line_ all over the city, the papers, the Internet. And being more acquainted to her musical side since Lima, she was drawn to the show and unable to stop herself purchasing tickets. The original plan was just to quietly buy one, steal into the damn show (maybe with a large hat and some Tiffany sunglasses) and watch the thing without anyone knowing. Unfortunately, Serena's constant snooping around her room (had she been so unaware of personal space before her departure too?) had uncovered a leaflet.

"B! What's this? Are you going to see a show?"

Blair had shrugged, trying to play it cool, secretly wishing her bubbly, blonde friend could just leave it alone. "Maybe. I might not, though."

"_A Chorus Line_? Isn't that the musical about all those people auditioning or something?"

_Or something_. Blair gritted her teeth, forcing back a vehement exclamation that that _something_ won numerous awards and was, in fact, the longest running original American Broadway show in the United States. Well, Rachel would definitely have, but here in the Upper East Side, it simply wouldn't do to show emotion for anything other than shoes or accessories or maybe some scandalous gossip.

"It's just some musical, S. Let's go to lunch now."

"Wait, it looks pretty interesting. I kind of want to see it! Let's buy tickets, B!"

"No! I mean, why would you want to see that? Isn't there, like, some fashion show you love coming up? Or a party? Or… anything?" Maybe she hadn't been too good at keeping the panic from her voice. Serena looked up. "What's wrong, B? You seem a little upset. Are you getting sick?"

Blair shook her head and looked away.

"I think we should go, Blair. You've barely been anywhere for this past week and even Gossip Girl doesn't have any dirt on you. It's a chance for you to get out of the house."

Blair opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Serena. "Not another word, we are going. It'll be fun and amazing and maybe I'll get to kiss one of the cute actors. I'll take care of the tickets. You just remember to show up, okay?"

And defeatedly, she could do nothing but nod her head.

(o) - O - (o)

"Everyone got their permission slips?" Mr. Shuester strode into Glee club.

A wave of raised hands showed that, indeed, those slips were signed and ready to be handed in. "Fantastic! And who's got enough money to pay for the tickets?"

This time, only a handful of hands.

Mr. Shuester looked a little dejected before perking up again. "Well, that's okay! We can just do a little fundraiser!" He chose not to recognize the collective groan that rose from the mound of students. "Mr. Shue," said Mercedes, "We've washed cars, we've sold cupcakes. What else can we do that doesn't suck?"

"Mercedes, we shouldn't go into it with that kind of tone! Now, we'll just need some good brainstorming. Who usually makes these kind of ideas?"

"Rachel," said Tina.

"Um, okay," Mr. Shuester said, "then let's get our Captain to do it instead! Finn! Get down here!"

Reluctantly, the boy stood up and trudged to the front. "All right, guys, anyone got an idea?"

There was complete silence. Kurt spoke up. "I think we could do a show for the school and get them to pay tickets to come and see it?"

Santana snorted. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen. We can't even make them watch for free."

"Well, Santana," huffed Kurt, "maybe if we all put _a little more work_ into it instead of sitting on our fat-sucked asses and complaining, it might become a bit more successful."

And with that, both parties were rising, advancing towards each other with animosity. It seemed that the top diva position had been won (albeit hard-won) by Kurt since Rachel had left and his bickering with Santana was a lot more aggressive than Rachel's. By now, Brittany had grabbed hold of the other cheerleader and Kurt was being (barely) restrained by Mike.

"Enough!" yelled Mr. Shuester. "I can't leave you guys alone for two seconds without a fight breaking out. Finn! As Captain you need to step up and take control. Now get this organized!"

Puck stood up. "Mr. Shue, when are you going to get it? Rachel used to do everything. She'd make the plans and the calls and come up with the ideas. All we had to do was vote. So now that she's gone, what do you expect us to do?" But Mr. Shue, probably overcome with the stress of maintaining the club, waved an impatient hand. "Guys, I don't care how you do it. Get your act together and come up with something. I don't expect anyone to come out of this room before you've sorted out everything." And with that, the teacher stormed out of the room, not unlike a certain diva had threatened to do before on multiple occasions.

(o) - O - (o)

Penelope stomped into the room, hungry for spilled blood. "Blair! You will not believe it. This new girl, Tiffany, I think, just completely insulted me."

Blair didn't look up from her hardback copy of _Les Miserables_. "And how did she insult you, Penelope?"

The girl sat down in a sulk. "I was walking down the corridor, okay? And this little freshman, this unimportant prototype, crashes into me! And then has the gall to suggest I look around while I'm walking!"

"Were you looking around, Penelope?"

"Yes! I mean, I was texting a bit, but it was a serious emergency and you know how good I am multitasking."

"What was the emergency?"

"Hazel decided to buy that hideous orange blazer she set her sights on, _after_ I told her how disgusting it was. She was committing a fashion crime! I was just asking her how quickly she could return it."

Blair sighed and finally closed her book after carefully bookmarking it. "Well, what did you have in mind for the freshman, Penelope?"

"I was thinking one of your master plans. A nairtini, perhaps, or some other concoction. You're so good at those, Blair."

"Look, personally, I see no reason why the freshman was at fault. It seems like a perfectly reasonable request made for you to watch your step when you were the one texting. And I don't see why we have to make her life hell to cover up for your mistake and embarrassment. It's not nice for those on the receiving end of punishment from their peers, you know."

Penelope was shocked into silence and remained so until the end of the period when she stalked off haughtily, her thirst for blood unsatisfied.

"Blair's gone soft."

"What do you mean?" replied Hazel, blinking rapidly into a bejeweled compact mirror and applying another coat of mascara.

"I mean," sighed Penelope, "that she's different. She's unfit to remain Queen. We cannot have a soft Queen that refuses to doll out the due punishments."

Isabel cocked her head. "But Blair's always been Queen. It's a tricky business, overthrowing the throne."

Penelope scoffed. "Please, as if this Blair is any match for me. Besides, I can count on you, can't I?"

Hazel didn't answer, focusing on her eyelashes while Isabel simply remained silent. Penelope looked at them pointedly. "_Can't I?_"

And at their assent, she leant back, satisfied at last.

(o) - O - (o)

The fundraiser was a fucking disaster. At least, that was how Puck would put it. It was a total and complete disaster.

In the end, Finn (the dolt head) had decided to make up his own stupid fundraising plan and do some shit like a kissing booth. Well, the only person who seemed to be making any money was Santana. Nobody wanted to kiss the glee-losers, Puck made out with girls for free, Brittany lost her money ("I gave it away to the nice man that sleeps outside my house") and even the footballers' allure was tainted by their reputation as members of the glee club.

Well, enough of that shit. Puck proposed to them that they join in his business venture: pool cleaning in summer and bagging up leaves for the rest of the year. They had reluctantly agreed, seeing as Finn's plan was such a fucking failure. Anyway, it seemed to be kind of working. Puck could practically charm the pants of every lonely housewife come his way and Santana easily worked on those middle-aged, erection challenged men. The rest of them were forced to do the work as they weren't good for anything else. And slowly, but surely, the money started coming together.

To be honest, Puck was kind of looking forward to New York. If anyone asked him if he'd ever go see some gay-ass fucking show like _A Chorus Line_, he'd mess you up like nobody's business. But Glee had made him appreciate music a lot more, Rachel had introduced him to a shitload of other genres (although he still preferred his Jewish artists because that shit's hot like nothing else), and he had never been out of Lima before (their football team having sucked too much to play anything _other_ than home games).

So, yeah, Puck had gotten pretty involved in this fundraiser shit; but only for New York.

In fact, he'd been working so hard that he'd almost forgotten about Rachel. It was still completely strange the way she'd left. And there was obviously a lot more to it than Harold let on. Puck had no intention of letting it go so easily, but admitted he'd have to come back to it after all this shit had gone down.

In any case, the money had been (finally) scraped together and the members were getting ready for New York. Coach Sylvester was not happy (to say the least) but they'd managed to scoot around the bitch for the time being. So maybe it was some kind of fucking sign from God (again) that he enjoy himself before preparing for the long trudge of searching for Rachel.

(o) - O - (o)

Blair had not seen it coming. If you asked her once, or even a billion, she would not have seen it coming. And honestly, she trusted Serena. She trusted her like no other because only she knew the innermost, most painful details concerning her departure and return. So she trusted that Serena knew just how much she _didn't_ want to see Chuck and Nate. Which was also why she was not expecting to step into the foyer of her apartment and see both boys lounging there, as at home as could be.

Unfortunately, they heard her. "Blair," said Nate as they straightened up. They looked terribly nice in their formal attire (Chuck's slightly more flamboyant than what was usual for men to wear, of course). Blair took a deep breath to regain composure. "What are you two doing here?"

"Serena invited us," answered Chuck. He was staring at her intently and she looked away from the heat of his gaze. "Did she? She didn't tell me. Well, where is Serena anyway?"

"Probably caught in traffic," said Nate. Then, his phone twinkled and he looked down. "Oh, wait. She says she'll just meet us there."

"I hope she turns up," Blair said. "She's got the tickets." Before either of the two boys said a word, she quickly swiped her clutch from the table and flounced to the elevator. In truth, she was not feeling very calm at all. How could Serena do this to her! An elevator ride down would be almost unbearable, not to mention the trip to the theatre and sitting through the show.

She had been looking forward to going there, incognito in some blessed casual clothing and maybe humming the songs under her breath. But now she had been roped into an awkward evening with her ex-boyfriend and his best friend that she cheated (sort of) on him with dressed in yet another flattering but slightly uncomfortable dress in a high box seat that cost more than half a year's worth of McKinley's tuition! Worse, her former disinterest in the show meant that she couldn't eve sing along to it.

As was expected, the ride was absolutely excruciating. She spent the whole limo ride squeezing herself into a corner and gluing her attention on her (new) phone. Serena had declared her simple one from Lima to be "almost barbaric, B!" and wasted no time in disposing it and gifting her a new one with multiple functions that she really didn't need. Well, admittedly, the mp3 was quite nice and Blair sought refuge in plugging in some earphones and comforting herself with the soothing voice of Pavarotti. _Nessun Dorma_ would never get old.

Maybe the boys had attempted to engage her attention, but her earphones took care of that and before long they had arrived at their destination. Perhaps it was strange that they were attending an event open to both the public and the elite (the difference being the pricey seats), but the Breakfast Club knew it had something to do with what went down in Ohio (not that they were very clear on what it was) and left it alone.

In any case, Blair was adamant that she live through this evening and work on maintaining relations with her former friends after some considerable time, rather than right now as Serena was not so subtly suggesting. She ignored the valet's proffered hand to help her from the limo and strode out, quite intent on getting this over with.

What a long night it would be.

(o) - O - (o)

**AN: Well, there's another chapter. Not very dramatic, I'm afraid, but a suitable filler. The next chapter should be good. Please think about what I said in my first Author's Note. Thank you.**


	6. Chapter Five: The Musical

_Disclaimer: Usually this is where I offer something witty about how I own nothing, but I'm too lazy to come up with anything good. You all know what I own and don't own, anyway._

**AN: I have been really busy and the aftershocks from the earthquake just keep on coming. Anyway, here's the next chapter simply because I am in a Glee and Gossip Girl withdrawal.**

Chapter Five:

The stage was beautiful. There was no other word to describe. And when she fixed her eyes on the entirety of its magnificence, all her problems, her quibbles became less important.

"Oh, B! It's so exciting! I haven't seen a musical in ages!" As always, Serena was far too cheerful. Maybe she thought overcompensating would cover up the awkward silence looming over the other three members of their party. Blair, Chuck and Nate had not said a single word to each other since the limo ride and Serena was quickly running out of things to fawn over.

Finally, even the perky blonde couldn't take anymore. "I'm going to the restroom. When I come I want all of this," and here she gestured towards them, "gone. Whatever 'this' is." With that, Blair's life ring had floated off. Desperate to avoid confrontation, she leaned over the balcony of their box seat and peered into the crowd.

Lima was a small town. There was really nothing there. McKinley was one of its few high schools. There were only two movie theatres that played movies several weeks after it had premiered. Nothing like this stage could even be imagined in that tiny town. So Blair concentrated on feasting her vision on the stage. She had hated these sort of functions before her exile - it was open to the public for considerably cheaper prices. Of course, they perched on plush, red seats on the ground floor whereas they had spectacular view from the second floor, but Blair had hated any sort of fraternization with the likes of people similar to Dan Humphrey.

Now those normal members of the audience were dear, familiar creatures. Not clothed in a splendid Christian Dior evening gown like she, they reminded of the folks back in Lima with their argyle and plaid. She reassured herself by people-watching. Nate and Chuck loitered silently behind her.

Why, amongst the throng was a group that looked just like her glee club! She looked eagerly. The tall, lanky one could have been Finn, the scowling Latina perhaps Santana. And there was even a curly-haired fellow with a bum chin that more than resembled Mr. Shuester. Blair snorted quietly to herself.

The show was about to start and Blair turned around to settle down in her seat, ready to drown out the strange atmosphere with darkness and enjoying the show. But then, a loud curse was pitched into the air.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Did you just kick me, man?"

Blair blinked. Once. Twice. The lights were dimming. She scrambled to scan the crowd again. If she wasn't mistaken, that sounded very much like a certain Noah Puckerman she knew. But too late, it was almost dark and Nate was wordlessly pointing for her to sit down. Serena burst into the box room, smoothing down her hair. "Oh, good, I didn't miss it."

Damn that stupid voice. Blair tried to focus on the curtains swishing open and the bare, minimalist stage. But the voice irked her. Surely it wasn't Noah. It was New York! How could he afford to come here? Her heart thudded when she remembered the familiar group of teenagers led by someone akin to Mr. Shuester. No way. Coach Sylvester would never let them have enough of the school's budget to come here. But her heart rate only sped up in answer.

(o) - O - (o)

Berry hadn't lied. This show was pretty fucking good. Puck leaned back into his cushioned chair and admired the bright lights of the stage, illuminating the dancers onstage. No wonder she was always going on and on about New York. He wouldn't mind seeing some more of these musicals.

Intermission came all too soon, and as the glee club trooped out into the foyer to stretch their legs, discussing amongst themselves. "This is a good show," piped Brittany. Quinn rolled her eyes. "Do you even know what it's about?"

"Sure I do. There's a group of munchkins who all want to be the top munchkin, and the beauty pageant master is selecting his favorite munchkin."

"She's been watching _The Wizard of Oz_," explained Santana. "Hey, where do those stairs go to?" asked Artie, eyeing a carpeted staircase climbing upwards onto the second floor. But when he wheeled towards the stairs, two men wearing intimidating black suits stopped him. "I'm sorry, sir, but the second floor is prohibited to the public. Only those with VIP tickets may enter the boxed seats."

"Geez," said Finn, "You must be filthy rich to get a ticket up there. Our tickets were already expensive enough."

Just then, three figures emerged down the stairs, sweeping towards them.

"God, Nate, could you be any quieter? I told you guys to try to fix things!" A gorgeous blonde swatted the arm of a sandy-haired boy. Behind them, a dark-haired boy scoffed. "Please, _sis_, you did not make things easy. 'I need to use to restroom'? What was that? I thought we agreed to stand united."

"I tried! I really did! But sitting with you guys was like sitting with miserable statues. Couldn't you at least make an eff-"

And here, the blonde knocked into Artie's wheelchair, stumbling over the glistered hem of her long dress. A loud tearing sound caused her to swear under her breath.

"I'm so sorry," said Artie. She looked up, exasperated. "No, it's fine, I wasn't looking, I just- Oh, God, this is my Chanel."

The girls raised their eyebrows. _Chanel_? This Hollywood girl was wearing such an expensive dress just to go to a musical? And they'd thought they looked fancy.

"Calm down, Serena. I bet you have more than one Chanel. Besides, there's always your Gucci, your Dior, your endless Diane von-"

"Okay, Chuck. I get it!" interrupted Serena. "But I really like this Chanel. God, where's Blair?" With that, she stalked off, ripped hem in one hand.

"I'm really sorry, again," said Artie. The sandy-haired boy smiled at him. "It's fine. Serena's just under quite a bit of stress lately." He looked at the group, still clustered in a tight circle. "Are you guys a class or some sort of club?"

Mr. Shuester cleared his throat. "Yes, this is our glee club. We're from Ohio."

"Glee club, huh?" smiled the boy. "Then coming to a musical must be really exciting for you. I'm Nate, this is Chuck," he gestured to the dark-haired boy, "and the girl that just ran off was Serena. We're here with our friend, Blair."

"Do you come to musicals often?" asked Mr. Shuester. "No, not really," said Nate. "Blair wanted to go so we all went."

"How much does a seat up there cost?" asked Finn suddenly. Mike elbowed him. Nate laughed, "I really don't know, Serena took care of everything."

Chuck sighed. "We need to go, man. The girls will probably be waiting."

Nate nodded and turned back to them. "You guys are from Ohio, right? How long are you in New York for?"

"Not long," said Puck. "Just a couple of days."

"Well," said Nate, "I hope you guys have fun. New York is a great place to visit. There's always something going on. We're just about to have a charity gala soon, actually. It's invitation only, or else I'd ask you guys to go. Oh, but there's a kind of after-party thing later that the younger people are-"

"No thanks, Nate," said Mr. Shuester. "It was nice of you to offer, but I have responsibility to take care of them while they're away from home, so…"

Nate shrugged. "Suit yourself. You guys take care. I hope you have a nice visit, then." And then the two boys were gone.

"Dude, did you see that guy's purple suit?" laughed Finn. Santana scoffed. "Please, he looked hot in it. And if I recall, the only suit you own is that hideous powder blue antique."

"He was nice," said Tina. "And hot," added Lauren. "Which one?" asked Brittany. "Both," she replied.

"The party sounded fun," said Quinn, gazing at the staircase. Now this was the kind of world she belonged in! "Come on, you guys will have plenty of fun without going to a strange party in New York," chided Mr. Shuester. "Besides, this trip was to lift us out of our funk and look for inspiration. Not parties."

(o) - O - (o)

The night was a disaster. While she was busy pondering if the voice really had belonged to Noah, Serena came racing in. "Blair! Blair! SOS! Look at my dress!" She thrusted a handful of her hem at Blair, who blinked and squinted.

"What's wrong with it?"

"What's wrong with it? What's wrong with you! Can you not see the split down the middle?"

Indeed, now that she was adjusting to the light reflecting off the sequins, there was a tear at the bottom. "Wow, how did you do that?"

"I tripped over a disabled guy."

"Are you serious? Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," moaned Serena. "Help me!"

Blair looked at her blankly. "I'm the one that's been away from New York and you're coming to me for advice? Don't you have a million other dresses anyway? Besides, you can't even notice the rip."

"Ugh, you sound exactly like Chuck. And do you see how big this rip is? Somebody's bound to post it on Gossip Girl."

Just then, the two boys entered and the lights dimmed once more. Intermission was over.

(o) - O - (o)

Quinn did not love New York. So far, she'd sat on a dirty subway seat, seen a singing homeless man groveling for money, and met lots of tourists. What she did love were the two boys at intermission with the designer suits and rich names. She belonged with them. She belonged to their world. Forget some lowly cheerleading squad in the middle of nowhere - this was where she needed to be.

As such, she barely concentrated on the second half of the musical. When, the curtains swept shut, the volume of applause roused her from a pleasant daydream involving her, one of the two handsome boys, and a nice yacht. Reluctantly, she stretched to her feet and plodded after the members of the glee club.

"I'm going to bathroom," she announced. "I'll be back soon. Just wait here for me."

And she crossed over to the exit, craning her neck to see as much of the VIP staircase as possible.

(o) - O - (o)

The evening was ruined. Blair closed her eyes. This was the last time Serena or anybody went to see a musical with her.

"Are you leaving already, B?" asked Serena as she rose. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm a little tired."

"Oh." She seemed almost disappointment. In unison, Nate and Chuck rose also, following after Serena. Nate was the first down the stairs. Before Blair even set foot on a step, she heard a girl yell, "Nate!"

Who was that?

"Nate! I'm just wondering where the after-party was?"

Surely not. Surely not.

"Oh, yeah, I'll text it to you if you give me your number."

"Cool. Here."

Serena clucked her tongue. "Hurry up, Nate!"

Blair shrank back into the shadows. Somewhere there was a God. This God obviously hated her because the girl was undoubtedly Quinn Fabray.

(o) - O - (o)

**AN: So, things are happening now. How I wish the next seasons of Glee and Gossip Girl were here already.**


	7. Chapter Six: Revelation

_Disclaimer: Usually this is where I offer something witty about how I own nothing, but I'm too lazy to come up with anything good. You all know what I own and don't own, anyway._

**AN: I'm back! I know it's been a while, but this is still my number one story and it's always fermenting away at the back of my mind. Thank you to all my reviewers, your support keeps me going and motivates me to update even when I keep putting it off. As for the great Chuck vs. Puck debate (although there have been a few Nate and Finn entries…), let's just say even I'm not entirely sure how the outcome will go. I've written quite a bit about Puck lately, but never fear for it's Chuck's time to shine. There will definitely be more N-JBC coming up and more interactions between the Glee Club and the Upper East Side. I apologize for my lack of updates and this long author's note; let's get on with it, shall we?**

Chapter Six:

If there was one thing Blair was having the most trouble adjusting to since coming back, it was the endless rounds of lavish events and galas and charities and parties. How did she ever keep up? More importantly, how did she ever manage her social calendar? It seemed like she'd be planning for months ahead just so all the events could fit out nicely; quite a chore, choreographing everything together nicely, like a jigsaw. Maybe it was because she'd been so unpopular back at Lima; Rachel Berry simply wasn't cool enough for the latest keg party. Blair Waldorf, on the other hand, couldn't refuse invitations quickly enough.

There was something riding on her mind more than the others though: the upcoming charity gala. To be more precise, it was the after-party for the younger attendees. She's been trying to wipe the memory from her mind; the flashes from the musical, Quinn's voice, Puck's curse - it was undeniable that the Glee Club was in New York. She didn't know the logistics of how they got there or why they were there in the first place. All she knew was that she didn't want to see them. It was easier just to keep her two worlds apart.

She'd kept well hidden while Quinn had conversed with Nate. In the end, Serena had to shuffle back just to drag her out from the shadows.

"What are you doing, B? Didn't you say you wanted to get home? Come on!"

These past few days all anybody was talking about was the gala. It was ridiculous how few people actually knew what the gala was for! Serena went shopping - again - to replenish her stock of dresses now that her "favorite" Chanel was torn. She was forcing Blair to pick something out.

"You know B, people are really starting to notice. You need to blend."

Blair looked up from the TIME magazine she was reading on the lounge chair in the dressing room. The boutiques in New York were a lot nicer than the ones in Lima.

"What do you mean, S? I'm blending perfectly."

Serena shrugged and posed in front of the full-length mirror.

"You're just so… serious all the time. You never want to go out, you never want any gossip, you don't take people down and you don't even seem interested in fashion! What happened to being a dictator of taste?"

"Well," said Blair, sitting up, "I guess going to small-town Ohio really did change me. I was a completely different person back there and there were some experiences I encountered which put me in the shoes of people being tormented. There are just so many more important things than Jimmy Choos or Perez Hilton."

"Don't try to fool me, I know something happened at the musical. You barely left the box, so it must have been something you saw. Spill!"

Blair smiled and stood, stretching over to Serena and plucked a bright fuchsia dress out of the extensive pile.

"You'll look beautiful in this, S. Stop twirling and try this on."

Serena grinned.

"I will, but don't think you're off the hook. We are not done talking yet and you need to find a dress."

"I really don't see the need. I have a huge closet back at home and I don't even remember wearing some of them."

"Well, you're stirring up enough gossip as it is. If you start wearing last season's cast-offs, I don't even want to imagine the damage we'll have to control."

Serena brushed the curtains to one side and stepped out. She was cocooned in a fine layer of vibrancy, her zest practically billowing from her blonde waves.

"What do you think?"

"S, you look perfect. Buy the damn dress and let's go."

"Wait! What about you?"

"I've had enough of this shop, there are plenty others."

(o) - O - (o)

"Blair is acting really… different."

Chuck sprawled across his bed, one hand fingering a joint and the other cushioned under his head. Nate was slumped to one side of the couch nearby, texting furiously.

"I get what you mean, man. She's really quiet and -"

"Unassuming."

"Yeah. And she's not bossy anymore."

"Something really messed her up in Ohio, godforsaken place that it is." Chuck drew a long breath from the joint. "I think we need to find out what happened and the best way to remedy it. Who the hell are you texting so early in the morning?"

"Oh, just that girl we met back at the musical. Quinn? She's coming to the after-party tonight."

"She was pretty hot."

"Yeah, she was. Oh, she just told me she had nothing to wear."

"Tell her she can never go wrong with a birthday suit."

"Come on, get real. Can you sneak something off Serena or something?"

"Why don't you do it?"

"Because," said Nate, "Serena's not exactly friendly with me after the whole musical thing with us not making an effort with Blair and stuff."

"Heads up, Einstein, I'm not in favor either."

"Well, I just thought -"

"That I would take the bullet?" Chuck snorted. "Not a chance. Angry girls are scary unless they want to work out their sexual frustrations." He sat up and stretched. "I think it's time for my daily hangover cure. Don't go, though. We still need to talk about Blair."

"What about her?"

"Please, Nathaniel. Don't try to act like nothing happened and everything's just the way it was. I've enjoyed having our friendship intact, but you can't deny there's something vaguely amok with out companionship. Besides, with Blair acting so strange, it makes things even harder to figure out. We need to talk."

"Whatever, man. You go get your hangover cure like a good boy now."

(o) - O - (o)

New York was getting exciting. Quinn sent the text with a smile on her face and a quirk in her eyebrow. The Glee Club was leaving in a day and she was going to have some real fun. It was a surprise that Nate actually texted back, but once they got the conversation flowing, it was like they'd known each other forever. Finn had gotten suspicious on more than one occasion, but his brain never functioned at a regular pace and he'd bypassed his doubts. Sometimes it paid having such a slow boyfriend - so slow he'd believe he could get you pregnant in a hot tub.

The charity gala was on tonight. Although she wasn't invited, Nate had texted her the address of the after-party. It was quite late - late enough for her to sneak out of the motel room she was sharing with the rest of the Glee girls. The school budget was tight and sleeping arrangements were crowded. Nevertheless, she could make things work. The only problem was her clothing. If she hadn't seen firsthand at the musical just how glamorous these Upper East Siders could be, she wouldn't have believed it. Now, she knew that nothing she owned would be up to scratch. But Nate had said something about getting a dress for her, so hopefully that would be all right.

"Hey."

Puck had sidled up to her, hands deep in his pockets. She glanced at him.

"What do you want?"

There was history between them; irreversible history. He'd taken her virginity and fathered her child. It would be a stretch to say there was nothing awkward between them. Perhaps she had felt some kind of romance for him at some point, but that point was long gone. The problem with living in a small place like Lima was the lack of choice. You either dated a jock or a nerd or some other stereotype - it was getting old and boring. Puck had changed since the first time they'd met. It was safe to say he didn't harbor any particular feelings towards her anymore, but all the same, they maintained some form of civility.

"Nothing," shrugged Puck. "You just looked like you were thinking hard about something so I thought I'd pick your brain."

"Do you like New York?"

"It's not too bad, I guess. The show was pretty good."

Quinn smiled. "I'd never have pegged you for a musical type."

"Hey," said Puck, "don't knock it. That shit was pretty fly."

There was a silence now, easy topics having all been approached. Puck turned to her.

"You've got that face on."

"What face?"

"You know… that game face. Or bitch face. You're planning something."

Quinn shook her head.

"Nothing! I'm not planning anything!"

"Now you sound all defensive. Give me some credit, I know you better than that."

She bristled at Puck's statement.

"You don't know me at all, Puckerman. Don't even try."

And then she walked away.

(o) - O - (o)

"I still say it's far too expensive for a few yards of silk and fancy stitching."

"It's perfect, B!"

"If I didn't know better, I'd say picking something out for me has cheered you up more than picking something out for yourself."

"Ah," said Serena, clutching her heart, "you have seen through my façade. Underneath this dewy skin and long blonde hair lies a caring heart, ready to serve others."

Blair laughed and linked her arm with Serena's. Now this; this was companionship.

"I've missed you."

Serena looked surprised "Well, I've really missed you too, B."

"No." Blair shook her head. "When I went to Lima, I was all alone and I really appreciate how you tolerate me and stick by me. You are truly my sister."

Serena pulled her into a hug, dark and light hair spilling together.

"We'll always be sisters, B." They pulled apart. "And now we'll be the most fashionable pair of sisters at the gala tonight."

"You're really pushing it, aren't you!" said Blair, eyes twinkling.

"Pushing what?"

"Your choice of dress for me and the decision to spend an insane amount of money on new clothes."

"Well," said Serena, "it's all part of the experience."

It was getting late in the afternoon when Serena finally wore down and agreed to Blair's request to return home.

"You know, we should really go see the boys."

"The boys?" asked Blair, playing dumb. Serena rolled her eyes.

"Stop it, Blair. You know who I mean. You can't avoid them forever, despite your best efforts at the musical."

Blair threw her hands up. "Fine! What do you want me to do? I can't pretend that things aren't awkward between the three of us! What happened has happened and I can't reverse the past."

"No, but you can make things right."

"How?"

"Talk to them."

Half an hour later, Serena was rapping on the door of Chuck's suite.

"Who is it?" he called.

"Serena."

The door clicked open. Chuck was standing at the doorway, dressed impeccably in a grey suit. He raised his eyebrows when he saw Blair.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the elusive Miss Waldorf. Please, do come in."

He swaggered away to let the two girls pass, his silence from the other night completely replaced by his usual drawl.

Nate stood up when he saw them. "Blair, Serena. What are you guys doing here?"

"Well," said Serena, "I hate this. This no-talking thing has got to stop. So I managed to convince Blair she had to come and smooth things over and put an end to all this crap. We are not leaving until you have the talk you three so desperately need."

She shoved Blair forwards. Blair tottered in her heels before settling down on the couch next to Nate. Chuck pulled up a chair and Serena perched on the armrest.

"What do you want to talk about?" asked Blair.

Nate looked at her. "How are you?"

Blair smiled. "I could be better. But I could be worse. I want to apologize for just leaving like that. It was cowardly of me. I know how it felt when Serena left for boarding school without a word," and here she shot Serena an apologetic look, "so I know it must have hurt just as much when I ran away; especially considering what had happened."

She paused, but nobody rose to continue the discussion.

"Anyway, I can't change the past and I don't want to. It's good to see that you two are friends again. With everything that happened, I just want us all to get along, hang out, and be friends. Being at Lima, I really missed my friends here and I want this all to work out. It's too much hard word skirting around the edges of propriety. Let's just let it go."

Chuck exhaled loudly.

"Who are you and what have you done with Blair Waldorf?"

At this point, Serena clapped her hands and spread her arms wide.

"Yay! Now this is all in the clear, we can go get ready and have a great time tonight without all the uncomfortable silences."

"Do you want us to pick you two up?" asked Nate.

"Sure," nodded Blair. "That would be nice."

Maybe this was step she needed to take in order to get over herself. As she and Serena left Chuck's suite, she couldn't help but feel refreshed and renewed. There really was a chance of new beginning and it was foolish to think she'd have to move to a whole new state to experience it.

(o) - O - (o)

"I never thought I'd say this, but I kind of miss Rachel."

The Glee Club was lounging around in the boys' room, enjoying their last full day in New York before they left the following evening. Mercedes had just sat up and was contemplating the room.

"I mean, she could be really annoying sometimes, but without it, the atmosphere's just different."

"Yeah," agreed Kurt. "I even miss her diva antics."

"You guys have been in New York for too long. The city air's getting to your head," snorted Santana.

"It's easy to remember the good stuff when Rachel's not actually here, but don't you remember all the hissy fits and drama and constant commandeering of the music selection. Besides, it feels good to sing solos sometimes."

"I just think it's kind of weird how Rachel just left," said Artie.

"Yeah, she didn't even say goodbye."

"You'd think, with Rachel being such a diva, that she would want a big dramatic exit and a tearful goodbye," said Tina.

"Hey! Where's Quinn?"

The club members rose to life, switching their heads around, looking for her.

"Did she tell anyone where she was going?"

"She was here a moment ago!"

"We need to tell Mr. Shuester."

"She's gonna be in so much trouble."

"Fuck, where did that girl get to?"

Before long, Mr. Shuester was notified of Quinn's absence. He'd groaned.

"Everything was going so well."

"Wait, wasn't there some party thing that the guy at the musical mentioned?"

It had taken two seconds for Mercedes to search it up on the internet.

"Yeah, there's a charity gala tonight at the Met."

"Well then," said Mr. Shuester, "I'll be off now. Wish me luck."

"What?" scoffed Santana. "You're not just leaving us. We're coming with you."

"I can't afford to lose any more kids," protested Mr. Shuester.

"You can't even afford to lose one kid," said Puck, "but you lost her anyway. We need to find her and more heads will make the search easier."

"Fine," said Mr. Shuester. "But stick together and don't go wandering around, okay?"

(o) - O - (o)

"Blair! You look beautiful!"

Blair laughed.

"As always, Serena, your zeal is overwhelming. You don't too bad yourself."

"No, your fashion taste is still just as good. I really love the fuchsia."

"Ladies," said Chuck. "Can we rave over our attire in the limo, please? The night isn't getting any younger."

The four of them clambered in, lost in easy conversation.

"Blair, tell us about Lima," said Serena.

Blair closed her eyes.

"There's not much to tell. My dad wanted to get away from civilization for a while and he chose that tiny town. It was completely random. There aren't many schools there and even less shops. Oh, there are heaps of diners, though. Their equivalent to Butter is this place called Breadsticks where you keep getting breadsticks until you leave or pass out."

"That sounds awesome," said Nate. "I want to check that out."

Blair laughed. "It's actually quite heavily booked, you know. The food isn't terrible, but being back in New York reminds me of how much I've missed out on."

"B, you keep talking about the town, but I want to hear about your new life. Your new school? How was it?"

"It was," Blair paused, "horrible. I wanted to become a completely new person. I changed my hair, my clothes, my personality…"

"Yes, I remember you were wearing plaid when we met in Lima," said Chuck. "And not in a good way."

"It didn't work out, of course. More people hated me than ever. There's this ritual at the school - William McKinley High School - where the nerds or unpopular people are given slushie facials. They get slushies dumped on them. I was one of those people."

Serena widened her eyes while Nate and Chuck snorted with laughter.

"I have great difficulty imagining Queen B with an iced beverage on her face," laughed Chuck.

"Yes, laugh on. But it was a cruel practice. Coming back I guess I realized what I bitch I was. I mean, those girls at McKinley are nothing compared to me. I was… I was hell!"

"So that's why you're so different," remarked Nate.

Before any of them said a word, the limo pulled to a stop.

"We're here!" announced Serena. She squeezed Blair's hand as they slid out the door.

(o) - O - (o)

There were some big, mean guards at the door. They did not look friendly. They did not want to negotiate. Even Puck wouldn't want to mess with them, as kickass as his guns were.

"I'm sorry, sir, if you're not on the list, you can't enter. It's our rule."

"But," Mr. Shuester protested, "I just need to speak with one of the attendees. A Nate? Please, one of my students is missing and it's urgent that I find her."

"I'm sorry," the guard was emphatic, "we cannot allow that. Please step to one side."

Mr. Shuester wandered back to the group, head hung down.

"Guys, I don't know what to do. Should we call the cops?"

"Hey!" Brittany yelled. "Isn't that the guy from the musical?"

Mr. Shuester couldn't believe his luck. There he was; Nate from the musical with Chuck in tow. The Glee Club started to hurry over. Then they all stopped.

"Is that… Rachel?"

(o) - O - (o)

**AN: Yes, the plot is awfully contrived. But I am the author so I can do what I like. I like it so far, not so sure what's going to happen in the distant future, but I'm pretty sure of what's going to happen in the next chapter.**


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